


That I Give You a Kiss

by avxry



Series: Private Fears in Public Places [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Kinda, Kissing, Language, M/M, Pining, Songfic, Swearing, private fears in public places, sort of, yay kissing!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10235090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avxry/pseuds/avxry
Summary: "And I'd rather die on the day that I give you a kiss than spend the rest of my life knowing I never did."Alexander and Thomas kiss, finally.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry for how long this took

Alexander has had enough. His day has been unpleasant, to say the least. There had been another board meeting this morning, in which everything he said was countered by Thomas, naturally, and after that, he had been swamped with paperwork that was unceremoniously dropped on his desk with a _thud_ , the coffee machine is broken, and to top it all off, he had to _cooperate_ with Thomas for over an hour due to some mix-up in their reports. Cooperating with Thomas wouldn't be so bad, Alexander muses, if only he didn't pine for the man every damned second.

Alexander sighs and shuts his laptop, unplugging it, wrapping up the cord, and sticking everything in his satchel. After shoving a few more papers inside clumsily, he tosses the flap over and stands, throwing the strap over his shoulder and heading toward the door.

He locks it behind him and starts walking, down the hallway, to the left, and he can see the front doors, can see his freedom, can almost taste it -

"Hamilton!"

Alas, his freedom is taken away. He shuts his eyes with an internal groan, registering the voice as Thomas's. Even despite his stupid infatuation with the man, he wants to get out of here. He spins on his heel and paces to the doorway to Thomas's office.

"Can't you bother anybody else?" he complains, but internally, that's not what he's thinking. Internally, he's hoping that Thomas doesn't want to bother anybody else, that Thomas really _wants_ to bother Alexander - not about work, but maybe about something . . . else.

"Why would I ever?" Thomas replies, rounding his desk to saunter toward Alexander. "I know how you love my company."

"However _false_ that may be," Alexander says, raising an eyebrow and hoping that he isn't completely transparent, "I want to go home."

Thomas feigns shock. "Alexander Hamilton wants to go home?" he teases. "Better alert Washington, this is front-page news."

"Are we done?" Alexander sighs in annoyance. Honestly, his heart may flutter in Thomas's presence, but there's a limit.

"Believe it or not, I don't _enjoy_ being around you," Thomas complains with a purse of his lips. Despite his frustration, Alexander feels his heart plummet to the floor. _Fuck_. "I actually have a reason for needing you."

 _Needing you_. The words rapidly ring in Alexander's head, but he sends them away. "Can you hurry it up then?" he demands, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe.

"I wanted to discuss - "

"Jefferson, it's too damn late for a discussion," Alexander interrupts, shoving himself off the door frame, frustration bleeding into his tone. "Either this is a yes-or-no question, or I'm leaving."

Thomas rolls his eyes. "Someone's grumpy," he grumbles.

And Alexander is just fucking pissed now. It's not necessarily at being kept here so late, or being made fun of by Thomas, or by the stupid coffee machine not working. It's just general anger at everything, filling him from his toes to the tip of his head.

But mostly he's angry that he fucking _pines_ day after day for this goddamn idiot who doesn't give a _shit_ about him and he's fucking _angry_.

"Shut your damn mouth, Jefferson!" he shouts, his anger spilling over. "I've had enough! I constantly work my fucking _ass_ off, trying to get actual shit done around here, and you just fuck with me! You ruin _everything_!"

" _I_ ruin everything?" Thomas scoffs, getting angry himself. "Everything was fine before you got here! _You're_ the one who came in and started changing things!"

"Because things needed to be changed!" Alexander exclaims, throwing his hands up and striding into Thomas's office, fingers digging into his scalp, pulling his hair. "All of the policies were shit! There were loopholes everywhere!" He walks back over to Thomas angrily, pointing his finger, and adds, "And I'll have you know, this company's worth has nearly _doubled_ since my plan was initiated!"

"It was going to double anyway!" Thomas argues, getting in Alexander's face. "It had nothing to do with you!"

Alexander rolls his eyes dramatically, "Oh, come on, that's ridiculous!"

"It's absolutely true!"

"You're just jealous that Washington has a new favorite!" Alexander accuses. They're nearly toe-to-toe now, and sure, he's angry - fuming, even - but he's still caught off-guard by Thomas's face, his eyes and his lips and his finely-sculpted beard. It's nearly intoxicating.

"That's the most idiotic claim you've ever made, Hamilton," Thomas says in a voice that fakes disappointment, his tongue clicking.

Alexander is trying to focus on the argument, on why he's angry, but he can't actually pinpoint it anymore. He's still livid, but the reason is becoming much less solid.

He takes a step back, and Thomas interprets that as cowardice.

"Are you backing away from me?" he nearly growls, but there's a twinge in his voice. Alexander can't focus on that.

"Your very presence is intoxicating," Alexander spits, hoping that the confession didn't come out the way he feels it did.

"Intoxicating?" Thomas echoes, his voice gravelly and his eyes wicked as he takes a step forward. Alexander can almost see something strange in the way his face settles. "Do I fluster you, Hamilton?"

"Why are you so intent on getting close to me, Jefferson?" Alexander taunts, standing his ground. His voice does not betray him.

Thomas seems to be slightly thrown off by the question. Alexander thinks that he's scored a point, maybe even won the match.

And then he goes and keeps talking. Shocker.

He can feel his brain telling him to shut the fuck up as he's saying, "Either kiss me or back off."

Thomas's eyes go wide at the same time Alexander's do. They visibly register the weight of the demand simultaneously.

"What the fuck, Hamilton?" Thomas sputters, and Alexander immediately decides that if he's still going to win this argument, he has to stand firm and unwavering.

He squares his jaw. "You heard me." There's a wicked tone to his voice, as if he's secretly saying, _I dare you to try_.

Thomas dares.

In a flurry of movement, their lips are crashing together, Alexander shoved up against the bookcase behind him, Thomas's cologne invading his senses. His mind flashes to white, and all he think is _holy fuck_ because he's only ever imagined this, he's only ever pretended that it could happen in another life.

But Thomas is kissing him, and it's rough, and he's doing something with his hands, grabbing at his chest and his back and his hair, and it's almost too much - almost.

Alexander can't hold back his gasp, and then a whine that comes from the back of his throat. He grasps Thomas's shirt at his hips, clinging on for his life.

It's as if their argument has found its way into the kiss; their teeth clash as they bite at each other's lips, their fingertips dig too far into skin, the force between them too strong.

And then it simmers down. They stop fighting for control, stop fighting completely. It becomes a languid duet, with their lips writing the symphony as they go. Thomas's hands stop gripping so tightly at Alexander's back, instead opting for holding him closer, softer.

Alexander loosens his grip on Thomas's shirt, his hands making their way up to his chest, and then to the back of his neck, finding a home in his hair.

When they pull away, they're panting, a little dazed. _What the fuck?_

Thomas is the first to pull away, taking a step back. Both of their hands fall limply at their sides. Thomas's face is bright red, blush creeping up from his neck. His expression is not favorable, in Alexander's opinion. He looks much too not-pleased with what just happened.

Alexander feels panic rise in his chest. It only worsesns when Thomas silently grabs his suitcase from his desk and makes for the door. He says only, "Lock it when you leave," and then he's gone.

So Alexander locks the door on his way out. As he walks to the door, he recognizes the familiar wave of anxiety washing over him.

He knows that tomorrow, he'll go back to work, do some paperwork, and find clever ways to completely avoid Thomas all day long. He knows the awkward tension will hang in the air for days, probably even weeks.

But honestly? He doesn't regret it. Not even a little. Not even at all.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't even begin to adequately apologize for how long it's been since i've updated this series?????????? i can only give excuses like school and Depression(tm) and procrastination
> 
> thank you to everyone who has commented on previous parts in the series and waited patiently without bugging me about updating, i truly appreciate it
> 
> i don't know how long it will take me to write the rest, but please be patient with me, i am soft and smol
> 
> hmu on tumblr @acexlex if you wanna scream at me for how long this took


End file.
